To maintain this very undulating balance, one works, and continues to do so, in the belief that every drop counts and each thought or gesture in the right direction makes a difference. If it really did not, as it more often than not appears to, then one would despair and be disheartened.

We at VOICE believe in the worthiness of our work, and our belief is fortified each day, by the communication of goodwill and faith our work draws to us. A lot of people from across our land reach out to us to support us, to ask us for help and guidance. The network grows, even globally, when people seek us out. Thus the quality of our work is enhanced by global inputs and outreach.

The edacious world we live in, requires more and more regulations and curbs, even as we argue in favour of freedom of choice and action. One learns that life is all about maintaining a balance. There is no way, given the human condition, that all will be well. Some will nurture while others hack away at whatever is put in place, but as long as there are matching efforts to re-do what is undone, there is hope. The 'feel good factor', which constitutes the current thin ice we are skating on, covers the turmoil beneath. At least half a billion people, if not more, live in a world of deprivation and want in our midst. The contribution of those who have what it takes to construct the good life for themselves, must not de-sensitise themselves to the painful parts of our national anatomy. Pain and sickness must be managed and we must continue to aspire towards their eradication.

But how is that to be done?

We believe that help, if it is not in cash, must be in kind. Every thought, each gesture, and of course all action for correcting the balance, counts.
Everytime I travel away and out, whether to the West or the East, North or South, or as I did recently, to the very heart of the world, I come back counting the blessings that accrue to our Indian entity. Our land is indeed munificent, as is our philosophy of life. How and why do we then manage to abuse one and misinterpret the other. This we do only to damage and harm ourselves as well as our psyche.
In Iran, I was able to joke with the women (who moved about in veritable black purdah from head to toe) that we in India had thrown away as much of our attire as we could, and indeed sported only accessories. I asked them also if they could really bear such lack of colour, because I am sure if we were to be clad as they were, each one of us would still manage to customise our black cover with embroidery, mirror work and festoons. They smiled and said, that indeed when Indians travelled to their country to touch base with religious shrines, they came attired like festive carriages: "you know, with colourful festoons covering their ostensibly sober attire". One, however, discovered that black was only thin ice, covering a riot of colour and variety beneath. While even duty-free shops put a freeze on cosmetics, finery and alcohol, women were dressed to kill beneath their chadors. Spaghetti straps and tight jeans or mini-skirts were covered to maintain public appearances while privately they all gyrated to Indian music in hip clothes. Actually, all our neighbours, including Pakistanis and Bangladeshis were well versed in Hindi soap lore!

Consumer choice is acquiring strange contours as globalisation is facilitated by high-tech innovations. In times of yore, ships entered dangerous seas to reach across to cultures. Now highways are being built in cyber-space to cultural meeting points. While debate is hot in India about how our culture is constantly impinged upon by others, we are no less in our out-reach, though one must say, without any structure or design. As always, in India things happen because
they do, and not because they are designed to do so.